Cufflinks and Bow ties
by Wowtsw
Summary: "I ran a hand over my cheek, nodding at the feel of groomed facial hair finally maintained; for how long, I wouldn't know, but regardless, I looked good. Carla McCorkle x Stan Pines Fic. T for implied Content.


**Gold Cufflinks**

 **Author's note: Who knew writing a story about Stan getting ready for a date would be so much fun. No matter his identity, he will always be a Hunkle Grunkle. By far the best character in my humble opinion, I decided to tackle a Stan-focused Fan-fiction, considering his humor and charm got me watching Gravity Falls. Another Grunkle4Grandpa and Hotpants4Grandma Fic, I can't get enough of both theories, July 13 can't come fast enough for me.**

 **Summary: I leaned against the countertop, adjusting my gold cufflinks while checking my watch again, the hands reading nine-twenty five. I reserved that fancy Chinese restaurant at ten, a little over curfew but a little nightlife excitement could go along away. I ran a hand over my cheek, nodding at the feel of groomed facial hair finally maintained; for how long, I wouldn't know, but regardless, I looked good. I dedicated this Fic to X for giving this idea in the first place. T for implied Content.**

 **Stanley's Point of view**

"You got this, Stan. Just stay cool and you got this." Leaning against the marble counter, I ran a hand over my cheek, nodding at the feel of groomed facial hair finally maintained. For how long? I wouldn't know, but regardless, I looked good. Holding my head a little higher, I looked over myself in the mirror, my fingers adjusting the bow tie with tact, careful in knotting the tie just right. I regarded myself with a raised chin and cocked brow, nothing but class and taste tonight. Carla deserved more than a criminal deadbeat; I could not afford to ruin this, not this time. I needed to give her a man with his act together.

A tough crowd to crack, I felt like a disease-ridden rat in containment, all but blacklisted by the family after revealing my real identity, my invites to family gatherings few and far between. Hacking away the hurt and betrayal, I finally broke-threw their icy wariness, a feat akin to moving a mountain. At the time, speaking terms let alone a rich relationship seemed like a foolish concept. By god's benevolent grace and a year hard at work, I managed to get through to them all, Carla the last and most difficult.

I offered her a friend at first, regaining hesitant trust bit by bit before receiving the jackpot; another chance back into her good graces. Now a few months later, I found myself taking frequent overnight drives down to Piedmont, renting a hotel room a few minutes from my son's house. I felt like a teenager, getting all dolled up for a date. Though a little rough around and rusty, I wouldn't bow out of the game just yet.

I thought back to my son's comforting encouragement following the news. Only taller by a margin, I felt every millimeter of our height different, his demeanor changing from a down-to-earth, quiet tech-geek dad to the embodiment of a nuclear bomb threat without batting a lash.

"Hurt her again, I'll kill you myself," He murmured, his hushed baritone laced with the formality of a crazed serial killer. That thousand mile blank-look cemented his words, his hold on my arm not enough to hurt but warn, both leaving no room for doubt. Considering I regained back his trust a month earlier, the fact he didn't left hook me in the jaw like did when I told him my real identity left me flabbergasted yet thankful, I didn't need another awkward family gathering or bruised cheek.

I grinned, fond of both memories, "In your mid-forties and still a raging Momma's boy,"

Tugging at my collar, I checked my watch for the fifth time in ten minutes, the ticking hands doing nothing but coax my anxiety. I rotated my neck, breathing through my nose before facing my reflection once more, fixing my crooked bow. When I focused on a goal, I wouldn't hold back, my 'all or nothing' mentality pushing me to accomplish the impossible. I brought my brother back, survived the apocalypse, I could handle a quiet dinner, maybe even a few bottles of wine back at the hotel if I played my cards right.

"Pffttt, what am I saying, IF? Look at me. Combed-back hair, the fancy cologne she likes, brand-new oxfords?" I smirked, "Not bad for an old man"

Chuckling, I gave myself a once over, adjusting my gold cufflinks. Granted, the umm... girdle did most of work, the tight fabric of my fine-tailored; you heard that right ladies, fine-tailored jacket hugging all the right angles, emphasizing my large built and muscles. Although the glory day body left me years ago, I managed to maintain my broad frame; a lifetime of constant fight or flight action did that to you. You know what, forget the Bow tie, a little casual influence wouldn't hurt. Yanking the chock-hazard off, I left the first few buttons unbuttoned, a tuff of chest hair contrasting against my white collared dress shirt, my gold chain glimmering in the light. Just alone time with my ex-wife, who knows, maybe I'll unbutton a few more as the night goes on.

 **The End**

 **Author's Note: Gravity falls belongs to Alex Hirsch. Leave a comment if you enjoyed this piece or want to offer some writing advice. I really enjoyed writing this one.**


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